Nineteen Hundred Years Later
by F3rn
Summary: Nineteen hundred years after the battle of Hogwarts, a mother and her three children walk among the castle's ruins. Miles away their kind are being rounded up, trapped in their own homes, boxed in by their own magical wards. Oneshot.


**Have you read Prince Caspian of the Narnia series? I was thinking, what if we left Hogwarts for a year and came back when a thousand years had passed? **

**This was the result.**

Nineteen hundred years later

They walk in the courtyard, the mother with her three children. The two younger ones, both boys, dash around as though the end of time is on their heels. They have to see the world, smell the smells, feel the wind rushing past their faces. They have no cares, those two. One, the younger one, trips over a stray slab of stone and shrieks in delight as he bounces head over heels, over and over down the slight slope. Stones seem to shimmy out of his way, branches retract their thorns. The other, several years older, laughs uproariously and chases after him. The younger child regains the use of his legs, and scampers off up another hill. His still short legs give his gait that curious waddle of a toddler, that speaks of youth, innocence, purity. Their voices tear through the silence.

The eldest child, perhaps eleven or twelve, walks quietly beside her mother. She is of nondescript looks, her mousy brown hair framing an un-extraordinary face. Her clothes are exactly like her mothers'- brown wizarding robes over a strange pair of leggings, which seem to be almost moving as the sunlight hits them. They are the latest muggle fashion. She stretches her legs, trying to match her mother's stride. The countryside is peaceful, even with her brothers' excited shouting. Peaceful compared to London, anyhow, where the muggles storm up and down the streets, with their scientific particle detectors, searching for magical blood, and their flying machines which are entirely noiseless, but somehow fill the very air with a heavy dread. She is glad to be away.

There are no walls anymore, not over a thousand years after this once mighty castle fell. The stone bricks litter the grounds, but the paving slabs of the old courtyard remain firmly in place- there is still some magic left in them. Other than these, the only reminder of those far off days when the castle stood tall and beautiful (it had been a school, her mother told her) was the forest. It had been there from the beginning, according to the history books. From the days of the founders, Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff and Rowena Ravenclaw, to the age of Harry Potter and his two friends, Ronald Weasley and the girl whose name she could never remember, to now. Her mother teaches her the history; she says it is important to know her heritage. But now, as the two of them walk in the sun, she knows that her heritage can no longer help her.

They know, those muggles. They know of this place, even if they cannot reach it for now. But their own magic, the magic of science and knowledge, has developed, while her magic, her mother's magic, has not. They can find magic and snuff it out, put witches and wizards on their operating tables and extract the magic from them. It won't be long, she reflects, before they find a way in.

"My mother brought me here when I was eleven, on this day." She is surprised. What day is this? she wonders. What is so special about the 2nd of May? "It is the nineteen hundredth anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts." Her mother seems to have read her mind again. She calls it Legilimency. Her daughter just calls it creepy.

Her brother, the older one, trips and falls too. He does not bounce. He falls into the stinging nettles, and cries.

"He will be fine." She looks at her mother, not quite understanding. The outward meaning of her words is plain, but some inflection in her voice, and the grave look on her face, gives them a shade of deeper meaning. "He will be fine," the mother repeats. "They won't hurt him." The boy picks himself up, and bounds after his brother. No stones move out of his path. The thorns remain as sharp as ever.

"How can he come here to this place if he is not..." She lets the sentence trail away, he eyes questioningly on her mother's face.

"He is one of us." Her mother smiles peacefully. "He does not have the 'particles' as those muggles call it, but he is not one of them. The land knows it- the stone knows it."

"We are going to flee, aren't we Mother." It is not a question.

"It is the only way, my dear. Other countries do not have it so bad- we may be able to go into hiding there."

"And Richard?" This is the name of the older of her two young brothers, currently chasing a fleeing owl as it makes off with his moleskin hat. It will be disappointed later.

"Aunt Celia will have him." Gone are the days of purebloods- they are a forgotten species. Everyone has a muggle relative these days. Some blame their downfall on this, but none can claim to have a pure bloodline.

"Mother—" She stops. She has to continue, she knows it, but it is hard. "Mother- what of Father?"

Her mother turns away. "Do not speak to me of him."

"But Mother—"

"He is out there right now, wearing a blue uniform and brandishing a particle sensor at innocent people."

She is shocked. She didn't know this. All she had known was that Mother and Father had argued. One part of her world that hadn't quite disintegrated crumbles before her eyes.

They reach a wide plain of what looks like shining snow. On closer inspection she finds that it is marble. "This was the Great Hall?"

"I believe so."

Something gold glints dully half buried in the ground. "Leave it!" her mother says sharply as she bends down. "It belongs here."

Miles away their kind are being rounded up, trapped in their own homes, boxed in by their own magical wards.

She is not special. She is not descended from any great hero. She can do only the few spells her mother has taught her, and not very well at that. She is only one of the thousands across the country who are being hounded from their homes.

And if she has to find a new home, then so be it.

"Come on, Mother." She reaches out her hand. "Let's get the boys and go."

**So the reason I'm writing this now is mainly that, much as I enjoy writing my current chapter story _Memories_, it is a bit disheartening to keep on with it when I'm getting hardly any reviews at all. So please, would you have a look at it and tell me what you think? I'm pretty sure it's not too bad, but I need to have people around me reassuring me about it or I curl up in a corner and sulk. I'm very insecure.**


End file.
